Case Of Lies

Chapter 1 Nina Reilly lay on her stomach, her eyes closed, a white washcloth draped over her backside. The endless mental lists had fled from her head, lulled by Chelsi's electronic ambient music and her soothing hands on Nina's back. Now Nina kept slipping into a snooze, the kind where you disappear and then snap back your head as your senses return. Let's see, she had dreamed a little dream about an old woman approaching, babbling something. This apparition had a dreadful aspect, as though if Nina ran away she would become gigantic and even more frightening. She kept coming closer, the hideous old witch, whispering so low Nina couldn't quite--then she understood, and deep dream relief came over her. All the old lady wanted was a piggyback ride, then she'd go away. Nina crouched and the old lady hopped on-- "Lots of my clients take naps," Chelsi said as the snap thing happened and Nina's eyes jerked open. "And miss the whole massage? No way," Nina said. "Your body will remember." "Big deal. This is too good to spend asleep." "We could talk a little if you want. Some people just like to relax." She was stroking Nina's sides, almost lifting her up from the table, her hands strong and the points of her fingernails digging in now and then. Chelsi was a tall ponytailed girl in her early twenties, and the smile she always wore seemed to be for real. "You talk," Nina said. "I'll just moan here and there." "All right. Let's see. Well, last week when I worked on you for the first time, I thought, She's somebody. I even thought you might have used a fake name. That would have been fine, by the way. LeAnn Rimes came here when she was appearing at Caesars last year and wrote down that she was somebody named Ms. Exter. It's not an insurance situation, so who cares what you want to call yourself?" Chelsi waited, but her hands kept working and Nina didn't respond. "Dr. Whittaker sends me all his headaches. He says ninety percent of the time it's tension and he says I have good hands. He comes to me himself. Oops, I'm not supposed to say that. Anyway, my dad says I got the curious gene. He says I ought to be a detective. Wow, you are so tight around the neck." "Mmm." "For instance," Chelsi said, then pressed hard, her hands making tiny squeezing motions on the back of Nina's neck. She was using kukui-nut oil to baste her. One could die at the beginning of the hour and Chelsi would never know it until her chime went off. "I'm gonna say you're a swimmer." "Whenever I can," Nina managed to say. Chelsi laughed in delight. "I knew because you have these excellent muscles in your shoulders, square shoulders and a tiny waist. A swimmer's back. I am so good. Now, your neck, I've seen that a lot with people with big pressures at work. Last week when I did that scalp massage you practically melted. It's definitely the cause of your headaches. That or your eyes. I'll work on them in a minute. "And then there's this." Chelsi's finger delicately traced the scar along Nina's side, still sore after almost three years. "You don't have to tell me or anything. I'm putting oil on it because you may not have incorporated that place back into your body and you need to have it witnessed. It's part of you and it's nice and neat--" "It's ugly, come on." Nina's voice came out harsh. "Never mind, I'll move on, just let me touch it again next week, okay?" "It's an exit-wound scar," Nina said. "From a thirty-two-caliber pistol fired by a woman in a courtroom." "I knew. I just knew it. You're a policewoman!" "What if I said I'm a bank robber?" Chelsi's hands paused. "I don't believe that. It woulO'Shaughnessy, Perri is the author of 'Case Of Lies', published 0000 under ISBN 9780385337953 and ISBN 0385337957.